Page 27 of A Midlife Gamble

‘Isn’t it?’ Marianne beamed.

Helen pressed her lips together. She had a tremendous urge to laugh and she knew, she just knew, from the tone of Caro’s voice that she was experiencing the same temptation. Marianne and Tony were preposterous, but also quite wonderful. Almost fantastical, and so much of her wanted to turn and wink at Caro, to share a moment of appreciation at the burst of colour and fun this moment had brought, like so many other colourful, fun moments they had shared. But she couldn’t find a way of doing it, because she couldn’t get past the spinning wheel of those words. It. Was. A. Mistake.

And then Kay said, ‘So… how did you get back in touch?’

‘I sent him a message on Twitter,’ Marianne said. ‘Asking if he remembered me.’

‘The internet,’ Tony nodded, ‘is a marvellous thing.’

‘Yes… yes, it is.’ Helen nodded back, joining in with the general consent. Now the initial amazement had worn off, her feet were making themselves felt again. A regular throb, like jungle drums. She really, really needed to…

‘I’m afraid I need to sit down,’ Caro winced.

Helen turned, looked down at the shoes Caro wore, as foolish as her own, and then looked up and smiled. And Caro smiled back and in moments like this, she thought, it was very easy to believe that nothing had happened, that they were as they had always been, a bit bumpy, a bit tetchy, but friends, always friends.

‘Shall we take some coffee?’ Marianne asked.

And together the three of them let out a collective groan.

‘No?’

‘We had the most enormous breakfast,’ Kay said. ‘I don’t think we could manage anything else.’

‘And the queues,’ Caro added.

Marianne turned as she looked around the foyer. ‘There doesn’t seem to be anywhere to just sit.’

‘Ladies.’ Tony beamed. ‘This is Vegas. Would you let me escort you to the best seats in town?’

‘Please do,’ Helen said, her smile a little tight now. He was as slick as an eel. Slippery too; still, if he knew somewhere they could sit down, without queueing, without eating, without drinking, she’d follow him all day

13

Weaving in between bored young women twirling fingers through hair, slow pensioners, babies in prams, loud men and kamikaze toddlers, they followed Tony along the colonnade, the click of hundreds of shoes loud against an Italian-marble floor. Either side rose the colossal columns that gave this passageway its name, and, arched above, richly coloured fresco after fresco depicted blue skies, outstretched arms, flowing robes. Helen turned to look back. At the far end of the colonnade the golden sphere radiated like a meteorite, hand-placed by some celestial entity.

‘It is quite extraordinary,’ she started and didn’t get to finish because Caro said, ‘My God!’

‘Slot machines?’ Helen turned.

The colonnade had opened up, the hand-cut tiles of the floor rearranging themselves into a wide and perfect circle, so that now they stood underneath a fountain of a chandelier contemplating what could only be described as an army of slot machines. Thousands of them, blinking and shrieking warnings, ringing bells, blowing whistles. Above each machine, an LCD screen flashed blindingly bright images, superheroes jumping rooftops, grizzly warriors fighting games of thrones, cartoon pigs building houses of straw. On repeat. Over and over.

‘You’re in Vegas.’ Tony laughed. ‘There is no better way to spend your time.’

Helen frowned. The ocean ahead of shrieking, whistling, honking machines looked to her to offer no more sanctuary than a seat on the last train home from King’s Cross on a Friday night. ‘What do you think?’ she said turning to Kay.

Kay shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’ve never played slots.’

Tony beamed. ‘It doesn’t matter if you win or lose,’ he said. ‘That’s not the point.’

‘It isn’t?’ Caro asked.

‘Not at all.’ He smiled. ‘Why do you think there’s a scarcity of chairs about the place?’ Nodding to the machines, he added, ‘Those chairs are the most comfortable in town, for good reason. The air is cool and the drinks are free. Slots in Vegas are like shopping any place else. They’re just a way to pass the time.’

‘Sounds like the plane,’ Helen murmured. She was thinking of the free drinks and the cool air and most of all, her reclining seat. If the slots were anywhere near as comfortable, she might never leave.

‘If you play the penny slots,’ Tony shrugged, ‘you’re just cheating time anyway.’

Kay smiled. ‘I’m all up for cheating time.’

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